A GNAT: Right, okay, hold on a second. [pulls out a tiny harp]
[singing] Oh, great Orb! We, humble geniuses are beholden to your infinite
power and majesty! [makes an incomprehensible gesture] Praise be
your everything and your always! By the law of the wizards, I beseech thee for
a miracle, raining fire, or what have you!

[They wait. A breeze drifts by and then nothing.1]

A SLUG: I don’t think it worked.

A GNAT: Well, why don’t you try?

A SLUG: I’m an atheist.

A GNAT: Well what are they doing now?

A SLUG: They’re coming closer. The leader is covered in flowers.

A GNAT: Well that doesn’t sound so bad, maybe we should join them.

A SLUG: Alas! You might be able to join them, but I don’t have the temperament for war.

A GNAT: I would never leave you, my beauty. I love you.

1. Troll politics. Or the sovereignty of cracks and gullies? Nothing as some sort of… memory? A furor.
Everywhere––fur poking out of nicely kempt cuffs and collars. All the real sculptures are buried somewhere.